Flaws
by Mokora
Summary: Sasuke reflects on his life after he's successfully avenged his clan. His thoughts drone on until he comes to a realization about the hated flower, Sakura. [ SasuSaku ]


_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, or Kishimoto Masashi's soul. OHEMJEE.  
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**Flaws**

By Mokora

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Distance. 

He lifted his head from its significantly uncomfortable perch atop his right forearm, the left arm hanging limply at his side, while he brooded.

**Hate.**

His eyes traced the evasive silhouettes of the newborn koi beneath the lake's glassy indigo ripples, the moon offering a milky splotch atop the center of the grand mirror surface. They bobbed and flicked about, there for an instant, then almost nonexistant. He made a mental note, cast to the furthest part of his mind, that it was difficult to seperate relfection from the actual lake surface. He'd succeeded.

**Confusion.**

The thick jade fir trees swayed hypnotically, their rustling and whistling echoing eerily through the crisp chill of night. He was alone. Brooding. Where was he now? He'd finally achieved the one goal he'd set his life upon, expecting to accomplish it much later than he had, if not his entire lifetime with failure. But he'd trained so rigorously, worked so diligantly, concentrated only on determination and victory. Thus, he'd won. He was victorious; king of the mountain. But he'd never stopped training for an instant to ponder the one setback that vexxed him so at the present time. The one question with no apparent answer, despite his clawing and scratching. He failed to find any solutions.

What to do now?

**Desperation.**

He'd avenged his family, his clan. But what now? He had nothing left. Nothing left to keep him going. He was the last. The last survivor. Which of course meant he must think of carrying on what was left of his bloodline. He'd surely be shamed if he let it die out. But that would require a woman, and a certain act of intimacy he'd never really pondered before. He'd always wondered, though he'd never admit, what loving a woman so much as to do... that, actually felt like. What was it like to adore every little thing about another human, who likely harbored secrets, regrets, taint, and uncleanliness? Like him? What was it like to look at someone and just smile, floating in the ever-bliss of undying devotion? Did it ease the pain of living? Did it cure the pain of living? A twinge of yearning crossed his heart, but he quickly dismissed it. He didn't need anyone.

**Denial.**

He ran a calloused hand through his thick ebony hair, to no avail, as his itchy bangs fell into his eyes once more. Could someone really survive, needing no one? He began to question. He began to wonder everyone dear to him were still alive, if he'd be so stand-offish and cold. Would he be bouncy and loud and obnoxious like Naruto? Or sweet and generous like Sakura?

Ah, Sakura. He gave a deep sigh. She troubled him most, more than his dying search for an answer to life.

**Envy.**

Something within him hated her. Hated her like she was an absolute nothing, something disgraceful and flawed. He hated her, simply for being such a glimmering beacon of perfection. She flaunted it too, with her limitless intelligence and illuminating smile. She sickened him, but he understood. He understood that he was just envious, hating her because she was, in truth, _flawless_. Her face was angelic and sculpted like that of a doll's, her body soft and curvacious. He'd grunted softly, uncomfortable about giving the flower so much credit, so much admiration. It was truly unusual for him, the epitamy of ice. But in all truths, he envied her. He yearned for her perfection, her innocence through all lust, her love through all torment. She lived and breathed life, savoring it as honey, while he... Well, he pushed it away, procrastinating and tossing it to the corner of his worries, afraid of the contents it would reveal. He was afraid of the fate he was signed to, of what would become of his miserable soul.

**Fear.**

She never showed her fear. She showed sadness, rather frequently, often weeping for those that fought for her sake or something other. But she never showed fear. He, on the other hand, was salvaged only by his mask. That mask that concealed his innermost confessions was his only lingering, and, if that were to shatter, he feared he would break. His life would break. She couldn't get too close. She had that power, he admitted at last, to shatter the mask. He couldn't let her in.

**Stupidity.**

What troubled him also about the flower was that, he'd tried so many times before to drive her away. To make her leave, and though it seemed he'd succeeded at first, she inched her way back into his territory, stirring the fear inside of him once again. So again, he did something thoughtless and foolish to send her away, though she was a repetitive blossom, it seemed, and thus she ceased to vanish. He'd even left her, refused her devotion, resurrected hidden tears. Through all of his trials, she prevailed. It was the truth of truths. Her love, in which its depth he honestly couldn't comprehend, prevailed, and forced him to his knees. What was so captivating about him? He was nothing. He was just a pawn, directed whichever way others wished for him to go. But, Sakura was infatuated. Her obsession was undying also, which she'd proved so many times before.

**Greed.**

He'd always hungered to be the greatest. He'd also derived from every last word of praise he ever recieved. Except from her. Why did she intimidate him so? Why did such a harmless, yet precious flower make him hesitate so? He tensed when she drew near, and he flinched whenever she called his name in that girlish sing-song voice. He wanted everything, even things so far out of reach, yet the one person who gave him nothing but loyalty and unwavering affection, he turned a blind eye to.

**Weakness.**

He stopped, only his wispy raven hair rufling in the breeze. His heart skipped a few beats as he experienced a realization that stunned him. He didn't move as the truth hit him like a blow that left one completely breathless.

He loved her.

She made him weak, drove his senses wild. He jsut couldn't think straight when she was near, and he couldn't learn how to deal with such a new feeling.

**Guilt.**

He loved her. He wanted to protect her, to hold her, to completely surround her. He wanted their souls to merge, to cleanse him of the death and suffering that stained his hands. He wanted to share the passion she longed for, to feel her warmth overwhelm the chill he'd grown so accustomed to for so long. He felt unworthy; completely worthless within her towering shadow. He was nothing, and she was everything. She was the blossom, and he was the darkness that prevented such a beautiful creature from blooming. Why did she let him hold her back? He suddenly missed her company, for the first time. He longed for her near, visions of him sweeping her into his strong embrace dancing across his mind's eye. Illusions of her sitting beside him, their lips connecting, sending sparks of electric life throughout his body. She made him feel alive, and he understood. But his pride... He could never let her know. What would she think? What if the chase was all she wanted?

No, she wasn't so shallow as that. He corrected himself, for she was, in his eyes, perfection. And, as every other treasure, he longed for it. He longed for her.

**Flaws.**

But he was flawed. How could he, a murderer, accept such a precious gift from her?

His thoughts strayed back to the thought of having a lover. He wondered if it would be so startling if he were to propose to her. It was so far-fetched, he decided, and scoffed, tilting his head to the left a bit. Typical that he'd try to convince even himself that he felt no emotion whatsoever, whilst his heart was filled with so many conflictions, clashing all at once. Could it be that she, the former nuisance, had changed him? Changed him so deeply, that he finally loved again? That he might be ready to accept the love of another and bask in it, live for it, and survive because of it? Would he allow Sakura to bare his children, eventually? Would she be the one, the only one, he shared such an intimate moment with?

It wouldn't be so bad, he declared, with slight curt. Though secretly, he lusted for it. If he could just get around to expressing his newfound feelings, which was an EXTREME task for such a person as him, far more difficult and testy than any battle or mission, he could live within her love. And she could live within his.

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_o.o;;_

_This was totally random, guys. I had an hour to kill, so here we go. A nice little look into Sasuke's mind when he finally realizes why exactly he insists on pushing dear Saku-baby away. It focuses on all of Sasu-baby's more obvious flaws, and how they internally trouble him. Just a sentimental little oneshot._

_I hope you all liked it! x3_

_Reviews or eternally luved!_


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